Amortension
by slytherinseeker11
Summary: Inspired by clracomalfoy on tumblr. Harry takes unnecessarily drastic measures to get Malfoy's approval (term used very loosely!) but ends up receiving much, much more.
**Amortension**

It was on a tired and dreary Friday that the famous Harry Potter was being teased relentlessly by the infamous Draco Malfoy.

Harry had thought that, after he saved the Malfoy family from imprisonment forever in Azkaban (although Lucius still had to go for five years), maybe their only child would be at least somewhat kinder to him, but alas Malfoy still poked fun at him at every chance. True, the other teen wasn't throwing hexes at him almost every time he spotted him, but Harry still assumed out of mere gratitude Malfoy would treat him more like, for lack of a better word, a friend. Surprisingly, a larger part of Harry found himself enjoying Malfoy's taunts. They were a refreshing aspect of his new daily life in comparison to the worn and gaunt faces of all his other peers.

"You still smell like you've just become a fourth year, Potter," Malfoy sneered, expression contorted to one of disgust. "Honestly, get some new cologne."

With a glare, Harry snapped back: "At least I know how to apply it."

Malfoy didn't miss a beat before he retorted with: "Like a plebeian."

When he couldn't think of a response quick enough, Harry gave Malfoy a harsh look and stormed away to Gryffindor Tower, scowl set firmly on his face. He could practically _feel_ Malfoy's smug look he was most definitely sporting.

* * *

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said from his spot on his bed in the dorms, "one would think you're trying to impress the git."

Harry flushed before an annoyed look took over his face. "I'm not trying to impress Malfoy. I just want to one up him, I suppose."

Ron's flat expression said all.

"I know the war was a big one, but now it's just tradition almost." When Ron's face didn't change, Harry tried again: "Force of habit?"

A sigh fell from Ron's lips. "Just don't put on too much, alright?"

Harry smiled. "When do I?"

* * *

"This one is even worse!" Malfoy cried when Harry walked up to him in the hallway after they were dismissed from Transfiguration. He sniffed, to Harry's amusement, daintily before his nose scrunched up. "Did you steal it from Weasley?"

Harry ignored Ron's whinging as they hurried to their next class.

* * *

"How could I have not thought of this before!" Harry grinned somewhat madly at his best friend. "I'm going to smell so good he won't know what hit him."

Ron merely raised a ginger brow as the door opened. "Hit who?" Seamus asked as he, Dean, and Neville entered the room.

"Malfoy," Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry's been trying to impress him."

Harry shot his friend a pointed look. "No, I'm not! Like I said, I need to one up him."

"Right," Ron looked unconvinced but handed Harry his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders' Map regardless. "Come back and tell me that it doesn't work. He could easily fake a dislike of your, er, scent. No matter what."

With a laugh, Harry stated: "You doubt my ability."

He pulled the cloak over his shoulders, watching the way his body disappeared from sight. After a second more of looking at the way the fabric shimmered and danced around his legs before settling, Harry's eyes rested once more upon his friend. "And now I must go."

"You do that," Ron said distractedly from his bed, nose buried in a Quidditch magazine. "You know, it's funny how they just carry on with Quidditch like the War never happened. Bloody amazing really."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but closed it and just shook his head. His friends waved as he hurriedly left the room, pulling the Invisibility Cloak over his head and rushing down the stairs and out into the corridor, somehow managing to avoid bumping into the few people scattered about the common room. A little First Year entered the common room, nearly crashing into Harry. Luckily, he managed to not run into the kid and slipped through the open portrait hole just before it closed.

Quietly, he rushed down the staircases, thankful that only one moved, and that even then the route from where it lead him was simple. Somehow Harry got to the Potions classroom in record time without seeing a single teacher or student. Despite checking the map and seeing no one, he entered the Potions classroom with caution and shut the door quietly behind him. He found it funny that he was nervous because the Potions professor was Slughorn, and Harry knew he was the man's favourite. (The thought always left a sour taste in his mouth though.)

Harry approached the pantry that contained the potion he wanted and pulled the door open. His eyes landed on the vial immediately.

An almost sinister smile plastered itself on his face as his fingers curled around the bottle of Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in existence.

* * *

The next morning found Harry rubbing the Amortentia everywhere that it could possibly be put to use on his body.

He didn't even bat an eyelash when Dean walked into the bathroom and proceeded to sniff the air. "Harry," Dean's eyes locked with his, "what cologne is that? It smells great!" The teen attempted to get close, but Harry pushed him away with a laugh.

"Shh," he grinned as he flashed his roommate the vial.

Dean's eyes widened. "Holy—how did you get that?"

Harry merely smirked and tapped his lips before exiting the bathroom.

He met with Ron in the common room, who told him Hermione had already made her way to the Great Hall. Harry nodded and decided to change the subject before the subject was even discussed. "So how do you think the Chudley Cannons are doing right now?" Luckily it worked, and Ron went off into a tangent about how they were treated unfairly by the Falcons fans and how he was completely sure that the Cannons would win against all odds.

Harry managed to keep the topic on Quidditch the entire way to breakfast. (Not that it was very hard.)

As soon as the pair sat down next to Hermione, she turned on them and forced Harry to explain everything and also to compliment his scent.

"Are you sure this isn't a bit too extreme?" Hermione asked when Harry told her what he did.

Ron nodded his head aggressively. "That's exactly what I'm thinking! All this for Malfoy, Harry? This is worse than Sixth Year."

"C'mon, Ron," Harry stabbed his sausage and smiled at a Hufflepuff Sixth Year who had walked by and did a double-take when she passed Harry. "It's not _that_ bad."

"You stole a really powerful potion!" Ron whispered harshly. "What's worse than that?"

Harry gave a shrug and stood when he saw the Slytherin in question walk into the Great Hall. He made his way over, not stopping despite the multiple students asking him what cologne he was wearing and attempting to smell him more.

He stopped when he was in front of Malfoy. His chin was raised defiantly. "Well?"

Malfoy tilted his head at him. "Pardon?"

"How do I smell?" Harry asked, triumphant expression faltering slightly at the other teen's lack of interest.

The blond's eyebrows furrowed as he answered with: "You still smell exactly the same. Why? What did you do?"

Harry's face fell and took on a look of confusion before his eyes widened, and his lips formed an 'o'.

"Potter," Malfoy urged, this time appearing even more distressed, "what did you do?"

"I-I'm sorry," and with that, Harry turned and fled.

He turned tail and ran from Malfoy because nothing made sense. Maybe he just didn't put on enough? That had to be it. But even the smallest drop would work. So the only solution left was…. Harry shook his head, refusing to think about the possibility. The _truth_.

When Harry reached his recent favourite hiding place, a little alcove on the sixth floor of the castle, he immediately fell to his knees before rearranging himself just so that his knees were tucked under his chin and his fingers curled around his calves.

"It's just Malfoy," Harry said aloud to the empty corridor. "Just Malfoy."

But it wasn't Just Malfoy. It was _Malfoy_ —who's hated and tormented Harry every year and could never possibly like him, much less love him, yet he still did. The more Harry thought about it, the more did he realise that it'd never been Just Malfoy. He was too _there_ for that to happen. The one time that the Slytherin had set his sights on something other than making Harry's life a living hell, Harry became nearly to just about fully obsessed with the teen.

He ran a hand through his messy, tangled hair and attempted to curl in on himself tighter.

* * *

"Weasel! Granger!" Draco Malfoy's voice cut through the quiet, calm, comfortable silence between the pair like knife through flesh. "I need to know what's up with your idiot friend, Potter!"

Ron slowed to a stop and glared at the blond. "We need to know what's up with you, Malfoy. Didn't know you fancy blokes now, huh?"

"What?" Draco stuttered, a pink tint growing steadily on his cheeks. "I have no idea as to what you could be talking about!"

"I think you do," Hermione stepped in. "Or are you so full of yourself and only yourself that you didn't even notice?"

"Notice what?" Draco crossed his arms. "There wasn't anything to notice. If you're still on about Potter this morning, which I hope you are, then there was nothing to notice. It was just him acting like the doofus he is. He asked me how he smelled twice! And when I answered, he ran away like a bloody coward. Aren't you Gryffindors supposed to be brave?"

"You really don't know…," Ron trailed off as he paled. "'Mione, I think I've got to use the loo. Please excuse me." Then he ran off down the corridor before turning a sharp corner and disappearing out of sight.

Hermione sighed and looked at Draco. She speculated him for a minute before placing her hands calmly on his shoulders. "Harry put on Amortentia this morning." Her eyes flit off to look somewhere behind the Slytherin as she winced and her fingers gripped his shoulders even tighter. "I wish I didn't have to tell you that."

Draco was too in shock to even process that Harry had done something that was most definitely against the rules. Instead he wrenched himself free of her harsh grip and backed up cautiously. "You're lying, right? I'm not—I'm not in love with Potter if that's what you're insinuating!"

The witch looked at him with what one could think was pity if they didn't know their strong dislike for each other, though maybe she really was pitying him. He was _supposed_ to be Harry's rival after all. That's how it always was and always will be.

"No, you're wrong," Draco muttered quietly, almost as if he were reassuring himself he wasn't in love. "I hate Potter. We're enemies. It doesn't make sense."

"He saved you from the fiendfyre and Azkaban," Hermione stated reluctantly. "It's only natural for you to be in love with him."

Draco blanched, making him look even more like a ghost than usual. "Stop that."

Hermione pursed her lips and cocked her head slightly. "Stop what?"

"Stop telling me I'm in love with Harry Potter because," Draco gulped and leveled his gaze with her, steely grey meeting cool brown, "I'm not. And I can't."

"Why?" Hermione questioned cautiously. "Of course you can. No one will blame you. Really. The War is over. You're your own person."

Draco shook his head. "No. I can't. I can't let myself be vulnerable like that. Not after everything that's happened." When he finished, his expression morphed from fear and panic to anger and annoyance. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll be on my way."

Hermione hesitated before nodding and letting him through. He passed by her, bumping her shoulder with his arm.

* * *

Harry was still hidden in his little alcove when the sound of rushing footsteps startled him. He leapt up and nearly screamed when he saw it was Malfoy. The teen looked vaguely panicked as he hurried to his next class (Study of Ancient Runes, Harry noted).

Without thinking, Harry shouted: "Malfoy!"

The Slytherin stopped and whirled around to face the other student. His eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, and his mouth was open the tiniest bit, small pants slipping past his lips. His expression hardened immediately. "What is it, Potter?" He spat the name like a curse. "Did you merely come here to mock me?"

Harry swallowed awkwardly and shook his head. "No, I—"

"Then I suppose that means you have nothing to say," Malfoy interrupted, "and that means I will go."

"Wait, Malfoy! Wait!" The intensity in Harry's voice startled both of them. "I wanted to say that," Harry's voice was calmer now, much calmer, "I'm sorry. I didn't tell anyone what I'm wearing. Only a few people know. And… there wasn't a scene, right? Everyone kept talking. No one paid attention to us."

Malfoy's lip curled slightly, and he turned on his heel, already beginning to stalk off to his lesson. "Of course. How could I be so stupid as to worry about my reputation? It's gone to pot already!"

Harry wanted to stop him, but he knew it was a lost cause. So he squeezed his eyes shut, released a breath through his nostrils, and proceeded to go back to his spot.

* * *

He knew the inevitable questioning would come when he got back to the dorm, but Harry was still shocked when Ron shoved him onto a chair, and Hermione bound his wrists. "C'mon," Harry complained. "It's not like I'm going to punch you two or anything! And technically you're not even allowed up here, Hermione! You could get in trouble. Just take them off." Hermione bit her lip and looked hesitant but did not remove the bonds.

"We're sorry, Harry," Ron said. "We really are. But this is Malfoy, and we know how you get whenever he's brought up."

"I never said I returned the feelings!" Harry snapped as he struggled to break free.

"We know, Harry," Hermione nodded her head and looked sympathetic. "And we wouldn't question you, but with the War and Ginny, we just want to make—"

"Sure I'm emotionally stable or whatever," Harry sighed and stopped struggling, deciding that just answering the questions would go by quicker than him attempting to free himself. "I get it, okay? I know you guys care about me, but really? You think I'd go after Malfoy?"

"Well," Hermione's expression gave away just how awkward she felt about the entire ordeal, "now that you know how he feels, we thought you might think of him as an easy outlet for your, er, sexual and romantic frustrations. And I'm sure that you'd somehow get attached, but he'd end up hurting you in some way."

"I've never even said I like guys!" Harry argued. "And isn't everyone ready to bow to my every wish and whim? Out of every student at Hogwarts, you think I'd go after Malfoy?"

"Harry, mate," Ron spoke carefully, "for a guy, you sure seem to not know a lot about, um," he sent a fleeting glance at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, a blush overtaking her cheeks as well, "sexual tension. The entire rivalry thing never made you…?"

He trailed off, but Harry understood the innuendo perfectly. He bristled. "Of course not! That's a horrible thought anyways." He huffed. "Look, I get that you both want me to be okay, but I can handle being single. Honestly." He looked down to the bonds tied around his wrists. "Now will you please release me?"

Hermione magicked away the bonds, and Harry stood, rubbing his wrists. "Harry," Hermione started to say, but Harry looked at her darkly, and she stopped, met his eyes and nodded. She walked out of the room promptly. Ron sent Harry one last glance before following the female. Harry released a harsh breath and sat on his four-poster. He Vanished the chair then threw himself back further onto his bed, head landing on his pillow. He rubbed his hands over his face, skin pulled downward slightly before becoming taut once more when it was released.

"Just Malfoy," Harry repeated the words he said earlier.

His friends' words rang shrill in his ears like alarms that he couldn't turn off. He knew he wasn't in love with Malfoy, the slimy nuisance. There was no way for him to be. Him and Malfoy had never interacted in a way that wasn't hostile. His mind reeled to the fiendfyre, but he shoved the thought away before he could dwell on it.

There was no way for Malfoy to be in love with him. It didn't make sense. It went against everything that had happened in the past years. _A lot of things,_ Harry noted as a sour taste filled his mouth, _makes sense when it comes to the anomaly known as Draco Malfoy._

He groaned and sat up. His legs slipped off the bed, shoe-clad feet hitting the ground. He removed his outerwear before climbing into the bed. A nap before lunch sounded nice.

Harry didn't even want to think about the possible detentions he could get for skipping his classes.

* * *

When lunch came around, Harry was awake and back in proper clothes. He slipped his robes on and hurried to the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione were already there, looking concerned towards where Harry was standing. Harry smiled at the pair, but when they didn't smile back (or even look at _him_ ) his expression fell, and he made his way over to them. Their eyes didn't even follow Harry. They stayed locked on the interest even when Harry sat down next to them.

"Ron, Hermione, now would be a good time to tell me why you're staring at the entrance," Harry prompted.

Hermione blinked and looked at him, sending him a nervous smile before her eyes glued back onto the entrance.

Ron stopped looking altogether and instead chose to stare intently at Harry. When Harry raised a brow, he began to speak: "They all found out."

"Found out what?" Harry had begun to ask, but he cut himself off when Malfoy walked into the Great Hall leading everyone to fall silent. Harry knew then, exactly then, what they found out. Malfoy, however, didn't seem to notice (or care about, Harry's brain quipped) the eery silence and continued his trek to the Slytherin table.

"Ron," Harry said, "this is bad."

Ron merely glanced at him before beginning to prod his potatoes.

Harry ate his food quickly and stood up as soon as he finished. "I'm going over there."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Why would you do that? He'll just try to hex you! If he knows why that silence—"

"I think he does," Harry declared.

"What? Why?" Hermione questioned.

"Because," Harry stated, "he is glaring at me as if I just set his robes on fire."

"Oh dear," Hermione tittered.

"'Oh dear' indeed," Harry nodded though he still began to head over to the blond.

When he was halfway there, a Ravenclaw stopped him. Harry tried to move around him, but the student pushed him back. "I wouldn't go near Malfoy. He likes you. Wouldn't surprise me if he tries to jump you."

Harry's hand instinctively went to grip his wand, but he prevented it from doing so and instead put his hand in his jean pocket. "And you think I can't withhold him myself? Not that it'd be likely for him to try."

The Ravenclaw frowned and stepped aside. Harry gave a tense smile as he walked past before brusquely carrying on.

When he arrived at the table, Malfoy didn't even look at him. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge him until Harry cleared his throat. Even then, the Slytherin didn't face him. "Go away, Potter," he said. "Surely you wouldn't wait this long to ridicule me. Unless you wanted to do so in a very public setting."

Harry shook his head despite Malfoy still looking at his plate. "No. I don't think I'll ever tease you at all. I actually came to apologise."

At that, the blond looked up, eyes wide like before, in the corridor, but the emotion shining in them was less panicked and more surprised. Harry was shocked at how much feeling Malfoy seemed to not be hiding. They stared at each other before Malfoy glared. "So it was you who told?"

"What?" Harry spluttered. "No way! It was someone else, I swear. I wouldn't do something like that, not even to you."

"No," Malfoy's eyebrows rose slightly before dropping back down, "of course you wouldn't. You're Precious Potter, the Boy Wonder Who Could Do No Wrong."

"Malfoy," Harry began, "you know that's not true."

"It doesn't seem like it," the Slytherin retorted.

Harry's eyes met Malfoy's as his mind made a decision, though probably a stupid one. "Follow me," he blurted.

Malfoy's mouth dropped open. "What? Potter," he reached his hands out, one grasping the front of Harry's robes to pull him closer and the other one travelling upwards to meet his forehead, "are you ill?"

Harry's gaze dropped to the other's lips, full pink lips, before he realised what he was doing, and he pulled away abruptly. Malfoy's hands fell back towards the edge of the bench before he too was standing. Harry's eyes flit away from him before he met the other's gaze defiantly. "So I take it you will?"

Malfoy sighed and nodded. "If it will get you to leave me alone, yes."

The smallest of smiles took over Harry's face before he realised the Hall was silent. He looked around, emerald eyes landing on various students from each of the different houses. He held back a nervous shudder and merely turned towards the entrance. "Come on then."

They left the Hall quietly, and when they were finally out, the chatter once more filled the air. _Though,_ Harry thought bitterly, _it's probably all about Malfoy and I._

* * *

"What do you want then?" Malfoy questioned promptly. He tapped his foot against the ground, and his arms crossed; he looked as if he had multiple places to be at once, and Harry was just a roadblock.

Harry sighed. "Look, Malfoy, I really am sorry. I didn't tell anyone other than some of my friends, but only because I couldn't avoid them."

Malfoy looked completely bored as he spoke: "I don't think I care anymore really. My father is in prison, and my mother can hardly remember my name. What other people think about me doesn't matter so much now. I'm already shunned by about half of the world's population already."

 _But you were just a boy who had no choice,_ sat on the tip of Harry's tongue, but he swallowed the words and chose to say: "You still deserve an apology."

"Oh, stop being so humble already, Potter," Malfoy spat. "I know it wasn't exactly your fault, and I know you're most likely disgusted by me and are just keeping up this 'perfect child' act to please everyone. Well, you can stop now! You can say whatever you want to me now that no one—"

"Shut up," was all Harry said before roughly placing his lips on the others. His eyes were screwed shut, afraid to see the other's reaction. He knew Malfoy was unresponsive, but he refused to move, only doing so when hands began pushing on his chest.

Harry pulled away, eyes becoming unfocused for a fraction of a second before clearing to see Malfoy's face. The Slytherin's eyes were dark but not from lust. They were filled with anger. It was as if thunder clouds had entered the other's eyes. His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides, and his expression was set into a sneer.

"Don't do this, Potter," he glowered. "You're just confused. You don't really care for me, and I refuse to be _used_."

White took over Harry's vision, and before he knew it, he found all his anger and annoyance directed at Malfoy. "I'm not confused, and I'm sick of people telling me that I'm _this_ or _that_! I'm not using you. I wouldn't do that. Contrary to what you think." He glared and saw the fight leaving the blond steadily. "And don't run away. Doing that solves nothing."

"You did just that!" Malfoy snarled.

"Exactly!" Harry shouted. "I know it doesn't work! Give in, Draco!" His mouth snapped shut at the use of the male's first name, and the other visibly relaxed the tiniest bit. "Give in, Draco," Harry chided, calmer than before. "I know how you feel, and you know how I feel. It's your call now. What do you want?"

There was no hesitation in Draco's response though his eyes were locked on the ground. "You," he whispered.

Harry nodded shortly and placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "Then have me."

Their gazes met, and Harry felt a volt of fear strike through him, but he pushed it down and took a step closer. His eyes fell to Draco's lips as they had before in the Great Hall, but this time he did not pull away. This time he leant forward, closing the gap between them.

He felt Draco's lips curl into a smile, which caused him to repeat the action. The result was them clacking teeth. They pulled away, goofy smile still adorning Harry's face. A nice pink blush was filling Draco's cheeks.

"We still have a lot to talk about, you know," Draco began, "about the past. I suppose apologies are meant to be in order, and then there is the entire friend ordeal. Will I really have to be friends with the Weasel?"

A soft laugh fell from Harry's lips as he nodded. "Definitely. At least try to get along. Now, can we have a moment of calm for one second. It's way too soon to be discussing these things."

"No, it's not," Draco huffed with an air of indignation only he is capable of. "If we want _this_ ," he motioned to both of them, "to happen, we need to get 'these things', as you so eloquently put it, out of the way first."

Harry rolled his eyes and pressed another soft kiss to Draco's lips. "Tomorrow? Or next week, maybe."

"Fine," Draco sighed. "But it better happen sooner or later."

"Yes, sir," Harry chuckled.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Alright. I'm still quite hungry by the way. I didn't get to eat much, thanks to _someone_ ," he glared.

Harry put his hands up in surrender. "Okay. Jeez. Let's go."

Draco huffed one last time before turning around and heading back towards the Great Hall. He stopped when he realised Harry wasn't following. "Are you coming or not? You were the one that said 'Let's go'."

With a soft smile on his face still, Harry nodded. "Just thought you might like it better if it was just you going."

"Oh, hush," Draco said. "It's better to just get being 'out' over with now than later." Harry nodded again and made his way to Draco's side.

"Should we, uh," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "hold hands?" Draco sent him a dry look, and Harry clutched his hand hastily. "Sorry."

"One would think you've never been in a relationship before," Draco raised a brow.

The smile on Harry's face turned cheeky in a matter of seconds. "So that's what this is?"

"Had I not made myself clear enough that I wanted this to last?" Draco looked unamused. "I'm starting to take that back."

"Right," Harry coughed. "Sorry. Let's do this."

"Yes, let's," was the response.

* * *

 _The Great Hall should never be silent more than once in one day_ , Harry speculated as he walked with Draco over to the Slytherin table.

"Um, er," Harry attempted to speak, receiving a sharp kick in the shin by Draco, who sent him a severe look, "uh, right. Nothing to see here, folks! Go back to enjoying your meal." His eyes roamed towards Headmistress McGonagall, who, as it turned out, wasn't even looking at him. In fact, she had never looked so disinterested.

"So are you going to stand there like an idiot or sit down?" Draco's voice broke Harry out of his thoughts.

The Gryffindor glanced towards his friends, who were still watching him. "I'm… Yeah. I'll sit." He carefully placed himself on the open area of bench next to Draco. He could see the soft upturn of the other's lips and couldn't help but smile once more.

He wouldn't mind this happening every day.

* * *

"Malfoy, Harry!" Ron cried. "We have this long talk before lunch and then you go and do what you said you wouldn't!"

Harry released a breath. "I know, Ron, but it's not the end of the world. He said he'd even try to be more civil with you for me." When Ron looked at him, he winced. "Okay, it does sound like the end of the world."

"Exactly!" Ron threw his hands into the air. "Honestly, Harry, there is no way for this to end well."

"He's in love with me, Ron," Harry stated bluntly. "I don't think he'll try to hurt me."

"He'd done it before," Ron said, sounding distressed. "He can do it again."

"But he _won't_ ," Harry argued. "Okay, Ron? He won't."

"You don't know that," Ron retorted. "I'm just looking out for you, mate. We don't want you to get hurt. Especially since this all seems to be a… new discovery for you."

"Thanks," Harry said dully. Ron gave a sheepish smile and went into the bathroom.

When he disappeared, Neville walked in. "Harry?" he questioned softly. "I saw what happened between you and, um," he faltered before continuing, "Draco in the Great Hall today. I just wanted to tell you that I still think you're Harry, and that you're still my friend. Who you like doesn't change my opinion of you."

Harry smiled at the other Gryffindor. "Thanks, Neville. What about Seamus and Dean?"

Neville looked hesitant. "I'm not sure," he answered carefully. "I think they're just a bit in shock considering your previous relationship with him. But they'll get over it, I'm sure. I think it's less you and more who you're with really. I wouldn't worry about it too much." He smiled softly at Harry before going over to his bed and rummaging around his trunk, signalling that their conversation was over.

Harry let out a breath and stood up. "I think I'm going to go talk to Hermione. Tell Ron if he asks." Neville replied, "yes," quickly before continuing his search for… whatever he was searching for. Harry nodded in thanks even though the other couldn't see him and headed out the dormitory and down the stairs to the common room.

Fortunately for him, Hermione was there and was sitting hunched over her schoolwork.

When Harry sat down across from her, she looked up and smiled. "Hi, Harry. I take it everything is alright with Ron and Neville?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Dean and Seamus too, probably. Neville said not to worry."

"Oh, that's good," Hermione said, going back to her work. "I'm sorry that I don't have more to say, but I feel as if you'll have heard all that I would."

Harry shrugged. "It's alright. I get it." He licked his lips nervously. "Hey, if Ron comes down here, tell him I've gone to see Draco, alright?"

Hermione stopped her writing for a fraction of a second before nodding. "That's fine though I'm concerned that you're obsession is coming back if you're going to see him now even though you saw him less than thirty minutes ago."

"Thanks, 'Mione," Harry said with a smile, purposely ignoring the rest of the sentence. "You're the best."

"Of course," she joked as Harry gave a small laugh and exited the tower.

* * *

The first thing he saw was the hair. Then the rest came into view.

Harry felt a smile take over his features. "Sorry I'm late," he apologised to Draco, who was facing the opposite direction.

Said teen turned around with a glare. "You better be. What were you even doing?"

"I was talking to Hermione," Harry responded as he moved to sit down next to Draco, who carefully followed his lead.

"H'm," Draco closed his eyes for a second before opening them once more and facing Harry. "I spoke with her earlier. Weasel was there, but he ran off. Some Gryffindor he is."

"Really?" Harry asked, pretending not to hear the last sentence. "What about?"

"You," Draco answered shortly. "She isn't all that bad, I suppose. Though if anyone asks, I didn't say that, alright? Anyways, Granger kept telling me that it's okay for me to…," he trailed off, but Harry understood and nodded, eager to hear what Hermione told the Slytherin. "I told her that I couldn't. It'd be too risky; I'd be too vulnerable. I can't care about anyone, much less _love_ them."

"But you can, Draco," Harry spoke carefully. "Caring about someone doesn't make you vulnerable."

Draco shook his head, gaze dropping to the ground. "Do you remember back at the Manor… when I had to identify you? I couldn't, Harry. I knew it was you, and I couldn't. And that was one of the dumbest things I did. I put my entire family and myself in danger because I wanted to protect you."

"Do you regret it?" Harry asked, fearful of what the answer would be.

"No," Draco choked, quelling the other's fears. "I don't. Which is ridiculous because I know I should. It should be one of my biggest regrets. Sacrificing myself for you just because I was a stupid boy with a crush? I was such an idiot."

"What you did," Harry started, "helped us win the war."

"I know," Draco snapped, silver eyes turned pewter from the tears gathering in his eyes. Harry could tell he was holding them back.

"That's the past though, and that's that," Harry continued. "It's okay to be vulnerable now. No one's going to be hurt from it." Draco's eyes met his. Harry smiled and leaned forward. "No one."

Draco pursed his lips before leaning in for a kiss. _Much harsher than the last one_ , Harry noted, lips responding none the less.

When Draco pulled back, a determined look was on his face. "You're right," he spoke, voice steady. "No one will be hurt. Not anymore."

Harry nodded before allowing himself to be pulled into another kiss.

 _Not anymore_.

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER:** Any characters that seem to be associated with the book series _Harry Potter_ belong to JK Rowling and the series' publisher/s. (Mainly Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.)

I wrote this back in September, but for some reason I am just now posting it. I'm sure that my writing style has changed, and maybe I should've posted something more recent, but I haven't written anything Drarry-related since mid-Novemeber/early-December. I hope this meets everyone's expectations, however! I know that there are many better ones, but maybe this one can satisfy some part of your Drarry-hungry mind. Have a good day/night!


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